


Finn(derella)

by pdameron



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Child Neglect, Cinderella AU, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7117621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pdameron/pseuds/pdameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Idk what to tell you man it's a Cinderella AU that's summary enough right?</p><p>featuring Cinderella Finn, Fairy Godmother Luke, and Prince Poe, who's just trying his best okay?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finn(derella)

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout out to [gammadolphin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammadolphin) for beta-ing! I'd be lost without you bud.

Finn had been alone for a while now, and he was used to it.

He was used to the long stretches of silence, to the lonely nights without another soul to hear him cry.

He was used to the longing that filled his chest when he walked past families on the street, when he saw a laughing child being lifted into the arms of a loving parent.

Finn was used to being alone, and what he wanted more than anything was to quell that loneliness.

Finn had grown up on an estate with wide, extravagant, empty rooms, with fields that had plenty of space to run, with a staff to maintain the house, but he would have traded it all for a hand to hold, for warm arms to burrow into after a nightmare. He would have traded it all for a family of his own.

Still, he supposed he was lucky, all in all, with his lot in life. So he never complained about what he wanted, and he was always grateful for what he had.  


 

***************************

  


Finn left his room early in the morning, and wandered through the house to the kitchens, having elected to make his own breakfast rather than wake the cook, Maz.

He paused as he passed by the main foyer, as he often did, to look at the portrait of his parents that was hung there.

They’d died in a shipwreck when Finn had been an infant: he had no memory of them at all. Maz always said that they’d been good people, that they’d have been proud of the man Finn was growing up to be. He stared at the two strangers in the painting more closely: Maz told him he had his father’s jaw and nose, but his mother’s kind eyes.

He entered the kitchens, only to find Maz already standing at the stove, making an omelet.

“You’re up early, young one.”

Finn shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well,” he responded, not in the mood to elaborate further. But Maz, being Maz, saw right through him.

“That wouldn’t have anything to do with our visitors, would it?” she pressed, raising a brow.

Lady Phasma and her sons were coming to stay at the estate for the foreseeable future, and Finn didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Apparently she’d been married to a cousin of Finn’s mother’s, and, as Finn wasn’t eighteen yet, and she was all the family he had left,  had seen fit to appoint herself his legal guardian upon the death of her husband. Finn wondered why she hadn’t done this before, as she and her husband had been his only living relatives since he’d been three.

Maz had told him that she probably only made herself his guardian because she’d been forced to leave her husband’s estate after he’d died several thousand credits in debt.

Finn hoped she was wrong.

He’d never met Lady Phasma or her sons, and even though he wasn’t technically related to any of them, he was cautiously hopeful about today. They were _family_ , what Finn had spent his whole life waiting for.

He was practically vibrating with nervous energy, his knees bouncing restlessly and his fingers tapping the table impatiently as he ate with Maz (he’d never much bothered with establishing ‘professional boundaries’ with Maz, or the rest of the staff: it was just him after all). When they finished, Maz mentioned that she’d need to go into town to get food for the welcome dinner she was preparing for the arrival of the Phasmas, and Finn immediately offered to go for her, needing to stretch his legs and settle his mind.

Finn elected to walk the four miles from the Trooper estate to town, in the hopes of clearing his head. When he arrived, it was early afternoon, and the marketplace was just starting to get busy. Finn smiled politely at the people he recognized, weaving his way through the busy street to get to the small pub. He’d have a quick bite to eat (he’d been walking for nearly an hour, and he’d worked up quite the appetite), then he’d buy the potatoes and carrots Maz had asked for. He’d be back just in time to help Maz start preparing supper.

He made polite small talk with the owner, Mister Tekku, as he prepared Finn’s lunch. Mister Tekku always told the best stories: he’d fought against the Empire when they’d tried to invade Yavin, alongside the Queen. Finn had wasted many an afternoon sitting at the end of the bar, sipping at a cup of water while Mister Tekku regaled him with tales of the old court sorcerer, Luke Skywalker.

  
Today, however, the pub was getting busy, so Mister Tekku left his food with him, giving him an affectionate pat on the shoulder before going to take care of his other patrons.

Finn was wandering through the market, potatoes in hand, when there was a flurry of activity in the square. Everyone was rushing toward the main road, straining their heads to see the riders passing through. Finn looked over at Tekku questioningly.

“Looks like the Prince is riding through town. If you hurry, you might get to see him, little master,” the old man called from the doorway to his pub.

Finn’s eyes widened. The Prince? But the capital was at least thirty miles away! What could he be doing here?

Well, no matter the reason, Finn wasn’t going to miss the chance to see a _real life_ prince, just like the ones in Mister Tekku’s stories.

Finn practically leapt into action, ignoring the old man’s laugh as he raced toward the gaggle of townspeople. The benefit of being fourteen, he thought, was that he was small enough to worm his way through the crowd fairly easily, until he was close enough to the front to get a good view.

He’d been expecting a huge royal party, with carriages and guards and trumpets and banners; but instead it was a group of six men on horseback, riding casually and laughing. There was not a single trumpet. Finn was almost disappointed.

He scanned the faces of the men, trying to find - oh.

That had to be him. Everyone heard stories about the Prince: he was so charming, they said; he was so handsome, they said; he was so brave, so strong, so confident, they said.

But the stories weren’t quite right. He wasn’t handsome, he was _beautiful_. With his tanned skin, his dark, curly hair, his strong jawline, his perfect teeth: he looked every bit the Prince Charming they all said he was. It was hard to believe he was only three years older than Finn.

“Go _lly_ , what a looker!” someone in the crowd said, quite loudly. If Finn could hear her, then surely -

The group on horseback started laughing raucously as the Prince’s face turned a deep shade of red, obviously flustered by the comment. He looked down at his hands nervously, before glancing over at the crowd, a strained smile on his face. When his eyes landed on the group Finn was standing with, the Prince’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open. Finn looked around him: ah. There was a girl near him, with big blue eyes and long blonde hair. She was quite pretty. Surely she had caught the Prince’s eye.

Finn looked back at the young man, taking the opportunity to really look at him. He had strong, bold brows, and his eyes were big and dark. Now that he was really looking, he noticed that his front teeth were slightly crooked. Finn found that ridiculously adorable. His nose was a bit large, but not unattractively so; Finn supposed he would grow into it. Finn became so fixated on a stray curl that was resting on the Prince’s forehead that he dropped the bag he’d been holding, the potatoes spilling out across the ground. He flushed, kneeling down to pick up his things, nodding his thanks to the people who’d leant over to help him.

When he looked up again, the Prince was grinning at him. Finn couldn’t find it in himself to be insulted: the young man wasn’t exactly making fun of him, and besides, who would be annoyed with a smile like _that_ aimed at them?

As the horsemen finally passed the square, the crowd began to disperse. Finn looked a while longer, long enough to see the Prince look back at the square, presumably to get another glance at that girl from before.

Without thinking, Finn waved. The girl was gone, but he could at least give the Prince a goodbye for her. He was floored when the Prince smiled and waved back, before turning around fully and leaving the small town.

The market was all abuzz as Finn made his way back to the vegetable stand, picking out some carrots. Everyone was talking about the Prince’s party: apparently, the Queen Regent’s husband, General Solo, had been one of the riders accompanying the Prince. Finn had been so wrapped up in the handsome prince that he’d missed the chance to see a _living legend._ For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t feel much remorse about it.

He was getting ready to walk back home when a carriage pulled into town, stopping outside Mister Tekku’s place. The driver jumped down to look at one of the wheels: it must have gotten loose and was acting up. Finn was about to walk over and offer the man some help when a tall, stern-looking blonde woman stepped out of the carriage, yelling at her driver before giving him a sharp kick to the ribs. Finn stopped in his tracks, appalled.

What a horrible woman! It wasn’t the driver’s fault the carriage needed repairs. The woman went inside Tekku’s pub, presumably to get a drink while she waited, and two gangly boys stepped out of the carriage, following her in. Finn walked over to the driver, offering his help, but the man just waved him off with a pained smile.

Still uneasy, Finn left town, walking back toward the Trooper estate.

By the time he’d gotten back home, it was early evening, and Maz was already preparing dinner. She put him to work peeling the potatoes and carrots, listening politely as the boy told her everything he could remember about the Prince and his party, the woman from before all but forgotten.

“-and his hair, Maz, it was so long and wavy, like - I don’t know - like a muddy ocean? Hang on, that’s not very poetic -”

Maz laughed. “Well, young one, if you’re going to fall in love at first sight, it might as well be with a prince.”

Finn blushed fiercely, swatting Maz with a rag as she chuckled good-naturedly. “I am _not_ \- “

He was cut off by the maid, Cero, running in excitedly. “There’s a carriage heading this way! It must be the Phasmas!”

Finn took off his apron hastily, fixing his collar and brushing imaginary dirt off his trousers. He rushed after Cero, opting to stand in front of the house, by the main entrance, to welcome his relatives.

The carriage pulled up, and - oh. Oh no.

  


***************

  


Lady Phasma was just as awful as she’d seemed that afternoon in the square. She was harsh, and stern, and Finn was terrified of her.

Upon her arrival, she had immediately shown her displeasure with the house, calling it “homely” and “run-down.” Her disdain for the estate quickly extended to Finn. He’d tried his very best to be polite and welcoming, just as Maz had told him, but Phasma apparently didn’t care for “foolish niceties.”

The meal, at least, had seemed to satisfy her, but when Finn mentioned that he had helped in the preparation, she’d been appalled. Apparently, the owners were not supposed to spend time with the staff. Finn thought that was a bit silly: Maz was his friend, not some servant. Why did it matter that she worked in the kitchens? When he voiced this thought, Phasma had glared and called him insolent.

After their meal, Finn gave the Phasmas a tour of the house, determined to be a good host, even if his guests would not show him the same courtesy. Upon seeing Finn’s room, Phasma insisted that her sons be given it, as they needed more space than he did. Finn, not wanting to seem unwelcoming or rude, agreed. He’d move into the room that had been intended for his cousins.

Phasma, however, had other plans.

“Now, boy, don’t you think we need a guest room for when we receive visitors?”

Finn, who hadn’t had a visitor before today in his entire life, didn’t see the need for one, but he wasn’t about to disagree with this terrifying woman. “I suppose?”

“Good, then it’s decided. You’ll move into the attic. There was a spare mattress, wasn’t there?”

“I - the attic?”

“Now, Finn, don’t you want to be a good host?”

Her sons, Hux and Nines (Finn’d  no idea where _that_ nickname had come from), were no better. They were mean-spirited, nasty boys. When Hux discovered the painting of Finn’s parents, he remarked: “Oh, how _dull_ . Mother, don’t you think this painting is just the most uninspired work you’ve ever seen? The technique is completely wrong, so dated. Surely we could hang something better than _this_ in the main hall.”

Phasma looked at the painting. “Yes, you’re quite right, son. He’s always had the most exquisite taste,” she said to Finn.

Finn was completely shocked. “But - I - those are my parents.”

Hux quirked a brow. “Yes, I could tell. You seem to have inherited your mother’s girlish features, and your father’s wide, ugly nose.”

Finn ignored the digs. “This is the only portrait I have of them, and since this _is_ their house - “

Phasma interrupted him. “You’ll find that this is _my_ house now, and if my son doesn’t like your painting, then it won’t be displayed, especially not in the foyer. If you’re so attached to the damn thing, bring it to the attic with you.”

Finn watched helplessly as Nines and Hux took down the painting and threw it on the floor at his feet, breaking the wooden frame. The three of them walked away, content to explore the house without their guide, as Finn knelt down to pick up the portrait. He felt his eyes begin to sting, and he blinked rapidly, willing the tears away. He was not about to cry where they could see him. He left the frame, carrying the plain canvas up to the attic.

It was a small room, covered in dust and cobwebs, with some trunks shoved into a corner, a broken armchair near the door, and an old, ragged mattress on the floor, with no bed frame or linens on it. The lone window had a crack in it, and the floorboards creaked as he walked across the room. He elected to put the painting on one of the trunks, where he could see it from the chair. He took a moment to look at the portrait, to take in his parents’ faces.

If he hadn’t had his mother’s kind eyes, he wondered, would Phasma have been so quick to take advantage of him?

  


*******************

  
  


He spent the rest of the evening moving his things from his old room into the attic, and cleaning away decades of dust and grime from the walls and floorboards. When he finally finished, he was covered from head to toe in grime.

He walked downstairs, only to find Phasma and the boys in the sitting room, waiting for him.

“Ah, good. Took you long enough,” Phasma remarked. “I’ve been doing some calculations, and I’ve found a way to save some money around here. After all, we wouldn’t want to be wasteful.”

“What -”

“You see, Finn, we don’t _really_ need a cook, or a maid. So, I’ve decided to let them go.”

“Let them go? You mean fire them? But - they’ve worked here my whole life. They’re good people, Ma’am. Surely their salaries wouldn’t be too much of an expense - “

“They’ve been fired already. And Hux: well, Hux had a most brilliant idea on how to replace them.”

At this, Hux leaned forward in his chair excitedly. “You see, since you’re already so devoted to _disorder_ ,” he began, “since you spend all your time with the servants, and since you already know how to cook, _you_ can be their replacement.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, you simpleton. It’s perfect: you already look the part,” Nines said, gesturing at Finn’s filthy appearance.

“But - why -”

“In exchange for your work, you will be given room and board,” Phasma said dismissively. “Go and clean yourself up, Finn. You’ll start first thing tomorrow.”

Finn headed upstairs to the washroom with a heavy heart. What had started as an exciting new chapter had turned into a nightmare. If this was what family meant, he wanted no part of it. He’d lost everything, even Maz. He hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye.

Still, he supposed, it could be worse. He had a roof over his head and food in his belly. Some people had less than that. So, he was resolved not to complain about what he wanted, and be grateful for what he had.

  


*************************

  
  


Finn woke early the morning of his 18th birthday, just as he did every day.

The past four years had seen the same routine every morning: wake up, prepare breakfast, feed the horses, collect eggs from the chickens, milk the cows, water and harvest the garden if necessary, light a fire in the main foyer, and make a pot of tea after, so it was hot for when the Phasmas woke.

Lady Phasma came down around 9 o’clock, ignoring him as he set her meal in front of her, as he left the room to do some housework. It was only an hour later, when Hux and Nines were served their breakfasts, that she acknowledged Finn.

“We have some business in the capital today. You can expect us back late in the evening. While we’re gone, you can wash our bedsheets, scrub the floors, and muck the barn.”

Finn couldn’t believe his luck. They’d be gone the entire day? And on his birthday, no less? The laundry would take no more than an hour, and Phasma wouldn’t dare step foot in the barn, so he would have most of the afternoon and evening to himself.

The three of them were gone by half past ten, and Finn was out of the house by eleven.

He went to the stable, smiling at Slip’s cheerful whinny at the sight of him. Phasma never used him for the coach, as he wasn’t purebred enough for her tastes, but she had allowed Finn to keep his old horse, for the rare occasions when she sent him on errands out of town. He coaxed Slip outside, and climbed onto his back. He didn’t bother with a saddle: he hadn’t learned with one, and riding bareback was easy enough when the rider had a close bond with his horse. Soon enough, he was cantering out of the stable and into the fields, away from his home, from his prison. Finn loved riding: there were no rules, no orders to follow, no stepmothers to tell him what he couldn’t do.

He didn’t know how long he’d been riding when he heard frantic whinnying from nearby. He pulled up short, circling back to find the source of the noise. He stopped when he heard the horse again, along with what sounded like a group of men yelling. The sound was coming from the Finalizer Swamp, of all places. He dismounted, leaving Slip to graze in the field while he made his way into the wooded area.

He followed the sounds of the shouting until he came upon a group of burly men - probably bandits, based on their garb - surrounding a mud-covered younger man, keeping them at bay with a rapier in one hand and a dagger in the other. Next to them, a horse was stuck in the mud of the swamp. Finn paused, listening in for a moment.

“Come on, kid. Just give us the horse, maybe that nice jacket there, and we’ll leave you alone. No one’ll get hurt.”

“Considering you took off your masks, I highly doubt that,” the young (and wealthy, Finn noted, getting a closer look at his clothes and the horse’s saddle) man retorted sharply. “Honestly, you’re better off just moving along. You really don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into.”

“I think we’re getting ourselves into a huge pile of gold with that thoroughbred of yours. Don’t you think, boys?” At the grumbles of assent from his two companions, the ringleader started to advance on the younger man. The man tensed, assessing his opponents as he moved into a defensive position.

Well, that wasn’t a fair fight at all.

Finn looked around before finding a decent sized rock. For once, he was glad for all the heavy lifting Phasma forced him to around the manor: his upper-body strength was considerable.

He shifted further out of the eyesight of the four men, lined up his shot, and -

The ringleader collapsed to the ground like a sack of bricks, having been nailed in the head by Finn’s forceful throw.

The two accomplices whirled around, looking for the source of the throw, and that was all the distraction the young man needed. He kicked one assailant away from him, and, rather than use his sword or dagger, started a rather nasty fistfight with the other. Finn didn’t understand it, but he had other things to worry about.

Finn picked up another rock and set his sights on the bandit who’d been kicked aside, but when he went to take aim, the man let out a loud yell. Finn stopped short, staring in confusion. The thief turned around and was met with the sight of a very angry horse, who, even while stuck in the mud, had apparently managed to defend its master. It had bit the bandit, and looked about ready to go in for another.

Finn threw his rock, hitting the other man right on the back of his head. The horse lashed out again, and that was enough to send the bandit running. He grabbed his companion and ran, leaving their white masks and unconscious leader behind.

The young man slumped in relief, before crouching down to examine the unconscious man. He checked his pulse, before nodding to himself - apparently satisfied that the man was only knocked out, not dead - and standing to turn to his horse.

“Alright buddy, let’s get you out of here.”

Finn, having done his part, turned back to head toward where he’d left Slip. He was halfway there when he heard faint grunts and a few shouts. He ran back, convinced that the two bandits had returned, or that the third had woken up. Instead, there was only the same wealthy man as before. The third bandit was gone. The would-be victim was arguing plaintively with his horse and tugging uselessly at its reigns. Finn rolled his eyes. He stepped out from his hiding spot.

“Need some help there?”

The man jumped, having been unaware of Finn’s presence. “Uh, yeah. If you’ve got a moment.”

Finn smiled, before jumping right into the muck with the horse. The mix of knee level water and the muddy marsh underneath had Finn’s pants ruined in seconds, but he didn’t mind. He spent most of his life covered in filth. At least this time there was a handsome man involved.

“What are you doing?! You’ll be covered in mud by the time you get out of there!” The man said, staring at Finn incredulously.

Finn shrugged. “Well, seeing as your method of verbal encouragement wasn’t doing much…”

The man scowled at him. “It was the first of what was going to be many tactics.”

Finn smirked back. “I’m sure.” He was about to start pushing the horse’s rear toward one of the banks, when the man jumped in, landing next to Finn and splashing him from head to toe with muddy water in the process. The man looked over at him sheepishly.

“Sorry. I probably should have hopped in on BB’s other side.”

Finn shot him a glare, before turning his attention back to the horse, who he assumed was BB.

“Alright, I’m gonna start pushing her toward the bank. You can either come help me by her flank or try to help her along her side. Ready?” At the man’s determined nod, Finn began to push the horse, who slowly started to pry her hooves from out of the muddy ground. By the time they had gotten BB onto the bank, they were both covered in grime and panting from exertion.

Finn flopped onto his back, content to just lay there while the man consoled his nervous steed.

He opened his eyes when he felt the man plop onto the ground next to him. He sat up, taking a good look at the man. Even with his hair and face covered in mud, he looked vaguely familiar. Maybe he’d passed him in the market one day?

“Sorry, do I know you?” The man asked. Finn startled.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” he laughed.

The man froze, pausing in his attempts to get the mud out of his hair. “You - You don’t recognize me?”

Finn quirked a brow. “Should I?”

The man was about to answer, when BB leant down and licked him from chin to brow, taking half the mud from his face in the process.

Finn couldn’t help but burst out laughing. The man looked ridiculous. Every time Finn thought he’d calmed down, he would glance over and dissolve into giggles once more. The man joined in, and soon enough they were both nearly crying with laughter, sitting on the bank of a muddy, disgusting swamp.

Finally, Finn sighed contentedly. “Oh man, I needed that,” he said, still smiling.

The man stood with a groan, wiping the rest of the mud from his face. Finn followed suit, and soon enough they were making their way out of the swamp and into the field. “I’m Poe, by the way,” the man said. “Poe Dameron.”

Finn smiled, but didn’t introduce himself. The last thing he needed was for Poe to recognize his family name. What if he knew Phasma? What if he realized Finn was just a servant, somehow? Poe waited for his name expectantly, but when Finn didn’t offer it, he didn’t press the issue.

When they finally reached the field, Slip was right where Finn’d left him. He was expecting Poe to scoff at his old farm horse; after all, BB was clearly a thoroughbred, and he seemed to be a very wealthy man, one who could afford the very best horses. Slip was hardly anything worth bragging about, no matter how much Finn loved him. Instead, however, Poe laughed delightedly, running up to pet Slip, and stroke his back.

“Aren’t you a handsome fella? Quite the silver fox you’ve got here,” he said to Finn, “I’m jealous that you can ride him bareback: BB’s way too jumpy and excitable for that.” He went back to petting and complimenting Slip, unaware of Finn’s swooning. A handsome, genuinely kind man  who loves to laugh, and likes Slip? Finn was dreaming.

No, no he wasn’t.

If he’d been dreaming, there wouldn’t be dried mud caked on the back of his neck.

“What were you doing in the middle of the Finalizer anyway?”

“Finalizer - ? Oh, the swamp? My party and I were practicing riding, trying out different techniques on different terrains. What were you doing so far out here?”

Finn shrugged. “Just going for a ride.”

“That’s an awfully long ride,” Poe said with a raised brow. When Finn didn’t elaborate further, Poe changed the subject, looking at Finn thoughtfully. “That was you earlier, wasn’t it? You threw that rock. You saved me.”

Finn shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He hadn’t mentioned it because he hadn’t wanted Poe to feel beholden to him.

“But why did you? You don’t even know me.”

Finn looked at him, perplexed. “Because it was the right thing to do,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It would have been easier for you to just move on, and stay out of it, stay safe. That’s what most people would have done.”

“Well, in my experience, there’s a big difference between what’s right and what’s easy. Sometimes I think people need to remember that. Besides, I’ve gotta do what’s right, if only because I know so many people who don’t,” Finn remarked. He waited for a response, and when his companion gave none, he glanced over. Poe was staring at him with wonder. “What?”

Poe shook his head, smiling. “Nothing. It’s just - you’re a good man.”

Finn blushed, and quickly changed the subject, flustered by the compliment. “Can I ask _you_ a question?” Poe gestured for him to continue. “Why did you throw away your weapons? You could have easily bested that thief with them.”

“He was trying to steal from me, not murder me. People don’t normally steal because they want to: they steal because they have to. At least from what I’ve seen,” Poe responded. He shrugged, and went on, “Besides, I saw their faces. It won’t be hard to put up ‘Wanted’ signs and find them.”

“And what will you do when you do find them? If you find out they were trying to provide for a family, or needed money for medicine?”

Poe looked at Finn solemnly. “Then they’ll get what they need, not what the warden thinks they’ll deserve.”

Finn smiled back softly. He hated to admit it, but he was finding himself more than a little smitten with his kind, earnest, and forgiving man. He went to respond, but there was a shout from the other side of the field. “I found him!”

Poe grimaced. “Ah. That’ll be my party,” he turned to the man, yelling back: “It’s me, POE. POE! My name is POE.” Finn stared at the other man, perplexed. If that was his party, wouldn’t they know his name already?

An older man galloped up to them, giving Poe a bemused look. “Alright, _Poe_. Everything alright here? You were gone for a while there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I had a little trouble back in the swamp with some bandits, but this nice man here helped me out.”

The man gave Finn an assessing look. “And what does this nice man want in exchange?”

Finn sputtered, insulted. “What do I want? What’s _that_ supposed to mean? Just because I’m _poor_ , doesn’t mean I’m out to get a profit at every turn. What do you think happened, exactly? I saw a well-dressed man stuck in the swamp, and decided that it would be in my _best interest_ to get an I.O.U from him?”

The man on horseback raised his brows, taken aback. Poe was staring at Finn in that same funny way he’d been before. “I - "

“Ignore Han,” Poe said, still looking at Finn like he was some sort of mythical creature. “He’s had one too many experiences with the wrong sort. He didn’t mean to insult you.”

The name Han rung a distant bell with Finn, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where he’d heard it.

“Anyway, Poe, we’d better start heading back. It’s a long ride home, and we’re already getting a late start, thanks to your frolicking in the mud,” Han remarked. “I’ll let you say your goodbyes to lover boy here.” Han rode away, ignoring Poe’s flustered expression.

Finn turned to Poe. “Where’s home?”

“Uh, the capital. I….work in the palace.” Poe said, still flushed. Finn felt his face fall. The capital? That was so far away.

“Look, I - “ Poe sighed, running his hands through his still-muddy hair. Eventually, he pulled Finn into a tight hug. Finn froze, shocked, before he melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around the other man. Poe pulled back, smiling widely. “It was good to meet you, mystery man. I hope we see each other again one day.”

  
  


***********************

  


When Finn finally made it back to the Trooper - No, _Phasma_ Estate, it was already early evening. He splashed some water on his face and went into his secret stash of coins (hidden in a broken teapot). Finn thought about changing his clothes, but instead chose to throw a bucket of water on himself. He only had so many clothes, after all, and he didn’t want to waste any time on his birthday doing laundry. At any rate, it was warm enough that his clothes would dry soon enough. He wanted to have time to go into town and eat at the pub for his birthday, instead of trying to eat something that's absence wouldn’t be noted by Phasma.

Finn sped into town, waving jovially at the people he passed, grinning at the well wishes he received. He’d known most of the people who lived in town all his life: of course they would remember his birthday.

When he finally reached the pub, he opened the door and froze, unable to speak.

There was Maz, standing there with a big birthday cake and a wide grin on her face. Finn couldn’t have cared less about the cake in that moment.

“Maz!” He cried, racing over to lift the small woman into a tight embrace. He felt tears well in his eyes as Maz placed her hand on his head gently, holding on just as tightly as him. When he finally found the will to let go, they were both crying and laughing.

He hadn’t seen Maz since that day all those years ago, when Phasma had sent her away. She’d gone to work in Takodana, in some bar, and while they had kept in touch via letters, it wasn’t the same as having her here with him. “How - What are you doing here?”

Maz explained that Mister Tekku, who had died a few months prior, had left Maz the pub in his will, as he’d had no children of his own and she had been a dear friend.

“Apparently, Lor-San thought you might need some more people in your corner, young one. He couldn’t just leave no one to look out for you, after all.”

Finn just stared blankly for a time, shocked. Maz was staying, for good. She wasn’t going to leave him. He felt himself begin to cry once more, laughing as he pulled Maz close to him again, overjoyed to be reunited with his old friend. It was just like Mister Tekku, to give back something so important just in time.

That was one of the best nights he’d had in a long time. Not even Hux and Nines’ taunts at his dirty clothes upon his return could bring him down.

The next morning Phasma gave him three times the usual amount of work, as punishment for ‘slacking’ the evening before. Even as he scrubbed the fireplace, covered in soot, his smile didn’t fall.

Besides, he had Maz back. That was enough to get him through the day. So he didn’t complain about what he wanted, and was grateful for what he had.

  


*********************

  


Finn’s life didn’t get easier after that, per se, but he found that his heart was less heavy, and his spirit wasn’t so easily broken with Maz to go back to.

He thought of Poe often, of what he might be doing in the capital while Finn cleaned the stables and mended the wheels of the carriage. He thought of his laugh, of the crows feet that formed in the corners of his eyes when he smiled. _“You’re a good man”_ , he’d said. It made Finn’s heart soar just to remember the fond look Poe had worn when he’d said that.

He was dusting the paintings in the sitting room when Phasma rushed in, holding an envelope.   
“There’s going to be a ball!” she cried excitedly. Her sons exchanged perplexed glances. Finn understood their confusion: Phasma had often said that balls were ‘frivolous, disorganized mockeries of modern society.’

At her children’s reactions, she elaborated. “The ball will be held to find the Prince a suitable bride or husband. The whole kingdom has been invited, and all eligible bachelors and bachelorettes are encouraged to attend.”

Finn’s heart leapt. The whole kingdom? That meant _he_ could go, and find Poe. Surely he’d be working in the palace on the night of the ball. He shook himself from his thoughts, listening to the exchange further:

“-you always said that the royal family was a bunch of soft, weak liberals. Why do you care about this?”

“Yes, they are. But if one of you were to marry the Prince, think of the power we’d have. You would be king!”

Finn shuddered at the thought of King Hux or King Nines. Surely the Prince would be a good enough judge of character to realize that his stepbrothers were the worst sort of people imaginable.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile. He’d get to see Poe.

“What are you smiling at over there?” Nines called.

“I’m just excited about the ball, is all.”

Hux snorted. “You don’t seriously think you’re going, do you? Balls are meant for high society, not filthy _servants_.”

 _Well, I wasn’t always a filthy servant, was I?_ Finn thought to himself. What he said instead, was, “Yes, but the invitation says _every_ eligible bachelor, and I _am_ eighteen -"

Phasma cut him off. “We are not going to waste a single cent on a new suit for you, of all people. Besides, I’d never let a lowly servant like you embarrass the Phasma name by presenting yourself at the ball. Now run to the tailor shop and put in an order for two new dress suits and one ballgown.”

Finn did as he was told, heartbroken.

While he was in town, he stopped by the pub to visit Maz.

“Ah, there you are. Are you excited for the ball, Finn? You could go see your young man.”

Finn blushed. “He’s not _my_ young man, Maz.” He explained his predicament to Maz as she went about making the lunch orders.

“- and I don’t even want to _go_ to the ball, I just want to go to the palace, so I can see Poe. It’s just not fair.”

Maz stopped filling the mug she was holding with mead, turning to Finn thoughtfully. “Why don’t you just take Slip after they’ve left? It’s not like they’d know.”

Finn sighed. “I thought of that, but it’s just not possible. Slip is pretty old, and the capital is over twenty miles away. That’s way too far for him to handle, even if we took breaks. Besides, no castle guard in their right mind would let in someone who looks like me,” he said, gesturing to his apparel. “The nicest suits I owned were sold after Phasma came, and the most presentable clothes I have now have soot stains all over them. Hardly fit for a palace, let alone a ball.”

“No presentable clothes, huh? Why don’t you look in those trunks in the attic? They’re filled with your parents’ old clothes. Surely something of your father’s would fit you, now that you’re grown. And if you’re so desperate to go, you can take one of my horses.”

Finn’s eyes widened. Phasma said that she wouldn’t pay for a new suit, but if Finn could fit into one of his father’s…. He smiled, giving Maz a kiss on the cheek before running out the door.

When he arrived home, he quickly told Phasma when the clothes would be ready before sprinting up to the attic. He carefully placed his parents’ portrait on the ground next to the crates before sifting through the clothes. Finally, Finn found a sapphire blue formal suit, one that was just his size. He grinned.

It seemed that he might get to see Poe after all.

  


**********************

  


The night of the ball came sooner than Finn had anticipated, and he found himself standing in front of the small mirror in his room, looking at his reflection in his handsome suit. He looked like his father, he thought, now that he was fully grown and out of his raggedy clothes. He glanced over at the painting in the corner, smiling.

“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered,

As Phasma, Hux, and Nines finished getting ready, and started talking excitedly, Finn headed down the stairs, nervously stepping into the sitting room where they were waiting for the hired coach.

At Phasma’s shocked face, he rushed to explain. “You said you didn’t want to waste any money on me, and you haven’t. This was my father’s. I know it’s a bit old-fashioned, but I think it’s a nice color, and it’s nice enough for me to go, don’t you think?”

To his utter surprise, Phasma started laughing. She walked up, a cruel smile on her face. “Who do you think you’re fooling?” she said cruelly. “You think you can put on a nice suit, and then you’ll magically be worthy of the Prince? Look at yourself. No matter how much you play dress-up, you will always be _nothing_.”

Hux stepped forward, fingering Finn’s lapel. “Besides, this suit is so dated, and oh, look - “ he tore the lapel clean off Finn’s jacket. “ - it’s falling apart. Hardly suitable for a ball, don’t you think brother?” As Nines walked over, Hux busied himself with tearing Finn’s sleeve.

“Yes, quite right, Hux.” Nines stepped forward, grasping at Finn’s shirt. He ripped it open, tearing the fabric and scattering buttons across the floor. “Oh, look at that. Now you’re practically indecent, Finn. We wouldn’t want to scandalize the Prince with your whore-ish ways, would we?”

The three of them cackled maliciously as they walked away toward the coach that had arrived.

Finn, crying helplessly, called after them.

“Why are you so cruel? What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Phasma turned to him, unaffected by his tears. “The _world_ is cruel, boy. I’ve tried to teach you about the way things are, but you never seem to learn.” she snapped. “You are too soft, too gentle. Kindness is a weakness. You’ll never get anywhere in life by being kind. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

She turned away, leaving without another word. As the coach pulled away, Finn ran out into the courtyard, watching helplessly as it left. He sat on the front steps of the house, holding his head in his hands as he wept. Phasma was right. All these years, he’d been nothing but kind and patient, and look how he’d been repaid for it. Perhaps he would be better off being heartless and callous, like Hux and Nines.

  


**************

  


“Don’t cry, my boy. Dry your eyes.”

Finn’s head snapped up at the man’s voice. Before him stood an older man wearing a long cloak and sporting a thick beard. His face was weathered and tired, but his eyes were kind.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m your fairy godmother,” the man paused. “Well, god _father,_ technically, but that doesn’t have quite the same ring to it, don’t you think?”

Finn gaped. “I’m sorry, I’m just stuck on you being my fairy _anything_.”

The man smiled softly. “Well, here I am. I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

Finn gaped. Luke Skywalker? The Queen Regent’s brother? The court sorcerer? The one who disappeared after the war? “....I thought you were a myth.”

Luke snorted. “Well, you were myth-taken,” he said with a wink. “Now, why the tears? You really want to go to the ball that badly?”

Finn flushed, looking away. “I know it sounds silly, it’s just - there’s this man. He was so kind to me, and so sweet. He said that he worked in the palace. I thought, if I could get into the ball, I could maybe get to see him again.”

Luke nodded to himself, apparently satisfied with his answer. “Well, then, who am I to get in the way of true love?” He placed his hands on Finn’s shoulders, staring at him intently. “Now Finn, this is the most important question you will be asked tonight, possibly ever. Think carefully, as your answer will be final,” Finn nodded, bracing himself. “What is your favorite color?”

“I - What?” Finn stared, flabbergasted. Luke just looked at him expectantly. He thought back to the painting in his room, of his mother’s shining face, of her gentle smile, of her kind eyes, and her deep, violet gown. “...Purple. My favorite color is purple. Why?”

Luke only smiled. He stepped back, pulling what looked like a long, green, glowing sword from his cloak.

“It’s not quite the magic wand you were expecting, I know, but it does the trick.”

Finn suddenly felt a strange force surge around him, and he looked down to see his father’s tattered old clothes begin to glow with a faint glimmering light, one that grew brighter and brighter until Finn had to close his eyes against the glare. When he opened his eyes, his father’s torn clothes had transformed into a dark violet suit, far lovelier than anything Finn had ever worn before. His coat had tails (tails!) that ended just above his knee, and his waistcoat (a waistcoat!) was the same dark purple as the coat itself. His boots, breeches, shirt, and lapels were charcoal black, as well as his cravat. Finn stared at himself, then he looked back at Luke, amazed.

“It’ll wear off at midnight, so I’m afraid you’ll only have about three hours at the ball,” Luke said with a rueful smile.

 _Three hours?_ That was more than enough. It was more than he could have hoped for. He smiled before heading toward town, already thinking of what he could say to Poe when he saw him.

“Where are you going? The castle is to the East, not to the North,” Luke called, perplexed.

“My friend Maz promised to lend me a horse -” Finn started to explain, but Luke cut him off, horrified.

“No, no no! That won’t do!” The older man cried, before looking around wildly. His eyes fell upon a smooth dark pebble on the ground. He crouched down and picked it up with a smug look on his face. “This will do nicely, I think.”

“...you want me to ride a pebble. All the way to the palace?” Finn asked incredulously.

Luke smirked. He put the pebble back on the ground, and with a wave of his strange green sword, the stone began to grow in size. As it grew, wheels began to grow alongside it, until before Finn’s very eyes the pebble became a huge black coach. On either side were two circular windows, with a smaller octagon forming a pattern with smaller panes of glass along the edges. The door to the coach, curiously, was a bright red.

Finn turned to thank Luke, only to see the man waving his wand at a group of mice, and then Slip. Finn let out a startled cry as the mice grew rapidly, and turned into horses in the blink of an eye. “What the -”

But he was cut off by a man throwing his arms around him and squeezing tightly. “Finn!” he yelled directly into Finn’s ear. “Finn! Finn! Finn! It’s you!”

Finn pulled back, wincing at the noise. The enthusiastic man was quite old, with long gray hair and a matching tattered suit. Strangely, the suit was the same color as -

 _“Slip?_ ”

“Finn! Finn! My friend!”

He whipped around to Luke. “What on earth - ?”

“You need a coachman, don’t you? Now go on, get in. You’re wasting time here.”

“I - thank you,” Finn said, at a loss. He stepped forward and quickly pulled the older man into a tight embrace. “I can’t tell you what this means to me.” He went to climb into the carriage, but Luke grabbed his arm.

“I’m sure you’ll be in for a few surprises, tonight. But when you get to that big, showy ballroom, remember this: according to my sister, Poe has talked about you non-stop for the past month. He wouldn’t shut up about the handsome, kind man he met in the swamp out in the country. So don’t get nervous. He’s just as stupid for you as you are for him.”

Finn blushed fiercely, nodding. He hopped into the carriage, and soon enough he was careening down the open road, toward the capital, toward Poe.

  


*************

  


Finn walked toward the great, ornate doors hesitantly. He’d never been so nervous in his entire life. He’d asked a passing guard where he might find a man named Poe, but the man had just chuckled and pointed at the ballroom.

He’d been hoping to avoid the ballroom altogether: he really was only here to see Poe, regardless of what his fourteen-year-old self had thought of the Prince. Still, he supposed he could find someone who could help him in the ballroom: surely there would be plenty of staff there. So, steeling his nerves, Finn reached out and pushed the doors open gently.

He’d never seen so many people in one room, let alone rich, powerful ones. The room went quiet, turning to look at the late arrival, and Finn felt his face heat up at the attention. He walked down the stairs as quickly as he could, trying to get out of the spotlight. He went to go hide in the crowd of well-dressed suitors, when -

“Hey!”

Finn whipped around, only to see Poe walking toward him, looking incredible. The reddish-orange of his tailcoat was a stark contrast against his dark curls, and the tight white breeches he wore did wonders for his legs. Finn was trying and failing not to gape.

He had no time to think of anything to say, as Poe was barreling into him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Finn took a moment to just breathe him in, fisting his hands into Poe’s coat. The older man pulled back after a time, grinning excitedly. “I was so worried that you wouldn’t come! I was -” Poe stopped mid-sentence, staring at Finn. “-oh. You look _incredible_.”

Finn blushed at the compliment. “Look who’s talking. It’s good to see you when you’re not covered in mud.”

Poe laughed, before taking his hands. “I’m really glad you came.”

They just stood there for a time, grinning at each other like love-sick fools. Maybe Luke had been right about Poe after all. Finn glanced around, tensing up. “Poe, the entire room is looking at us.”

“Can you blame them? Just look at you.” Finn felt his cheeks get even warmer, and he swatted at Poe good-naturedly. The room gasped at that. Finn looked around, perplexed.

“Poe, what is going on?”

An older steward took to the balcony, calling for the room’s attention. Poe turned to Finn hurriedly. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Finn didn’t think he’d ever been more confused in his life. “Get mad? Why would I - “

“The Prince will now select a partner for the first dance.” The steward said authoritatively.

Finn was looking around, trying to see where the Prince was, when Poe took a step back, bowing gracefully as he extended his hand. “Good sir, it would be my honor if you allowed me this first dance.”

Finn gaped at Poe. At the Prince. Poe was the Prince. Prince Poe. _‘A few surprises’ indeed_ , Finn thought, remembering what Luke had said as he left.

He was shocked, _of course_ he was, but as he looked at the other man’s nervous face, at his hopeful smile, he realized that it didn’t matter what his title was: Poe was Poe, and that was enough for Finn.

He took Poe’s hand, laughing as Poe smiled beatifically. Poe pulled him into the center of the ballroom, wrapping one hand around Finn’s back. The music started playing, and suddenly they were gliding across the room, practically floating. Finn felt like he was flying, grinning at Poe as they twirled and twirled, unaware of anything but each other. It was like there was no one else in the room, in the world.

The song died down, and Poe stepped back, bowing as he placed a gentle kiss on Finn’s hand.

He straightened up, stepping closer to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go somewhere?”

At Finn’s nod, Poe took his hand, pulling him from the ballroom and into the courtyard. Poe glanced behind them, looking to see if they were followed, and, once he was certain they were alone, he sighed, relaxing. He slowed his walk, leaning into Finn as they meandered across the courtyard. He didn’t let go of Finn’s hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, before,” Poe said, running his thumb along the back of Finn’s hand. “It’s just - you looked at me like no one else had before: like a person. I wasn’t Prince Poe, I was just Poe, some guy you met in the woods. And it seemed as if you liked me anyway.”

Finn smiled, bumping Poe’s shoulder with his own. “I’m not mad. I get it. It must be hard, to have people make assumptions before they even meet you. I mean, if you had met _me_ in any other place, you wouldn’t have -” He cut himself off. He didn’t want to think about that tonight. Tonight was for him, and he would not let Phasma ruin it. “Any way, the point is, I understand.”

They were all the way across the courtyard now, and heading into the palace gardens. Finn looked around at the hedges and flowers, the fountains and statues, mesmerized. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” Poe agreed, and Finn glanced over to see the other man looking at him fondly.

Finn pulled Poe to a stop, taking a moment to just look at him. When the moment began to stretch a bit too long, Poe started to shift uncomfortably. “What are you - “ He fell silent as Finn shushed him.

Now that he knew what to look for, Finn couldn’t understand how he hadn’t seen it before. Poe had the same heavy brow, the same wide brown eyes. His shoulders had broadened, and he’d grown into his nose (as Finn had thought he would), but his hair was just as thick and curly (though it was significantly shorter), his jaw just as strong as it had been all those years ago.

Finn smiled, reaching up to play with a loose curl that had fallen onto Poe’s forehead. “You know,” he began, “You rode through my town, when I was fourteen. It felt like everyone I knew had crowded onto the side of the road, trying to get a good look at you. And, when I finally did see you, I got so distracted by your perfect, _stupid_ hair that I dropped an entire bag of potatoes on my foot.”

Poe pulled back sharply, staring at Finn with wide eyes. “You’re joking.” Finn tilted his head, confused. Poe started laughing, shaking his head incredulously. “This is unbelievable. _You_ were potato boy!”

Finn balked, insulted. “Potato boy?”

Poe grinned, cheeks coloring slightly. “When I was a teenager, we rode through this small town in the country, and when I looked into the crowd, there was this _boy_ . I thought he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring. And then, for whatever reason, his bag slipped out of his hands, and a bunch of potatoes spilled out onto the street. That’s how everyone remembered him. ‘The boy Poe fell in love with, you know, the one with the potatoes?’ God, my guards wouldn’t let that one go for _years_. That beautiful potato boy ended up giving me a lot of grief, in the form of teasing from literally everyone I knew.”

“Not that I’m not flattered by this, but I don’t know how I feel about being called Potato Boy.”

Poe laughed, grabbing Finn’s hand and resuming their walk. “I think it just means we were destined to meet,” he paused, before continuing carefully. “You know, if I knew your name, I wouldn’t have to call you Potato Boy.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “Oh, I - the thing is -”

It would be so simple. _My name is Finn_ , he would say. But then the rest would follow. _‘What do you do, Finn? Where are you from? Tell me about yourself!’_ and then what would Finn say? _‘Well, Poe, I live in a huge manor, except I’m a servant. More of a slave, really. I wasn’t always a servant, but I was just too nice to stand up for myself. I have one friend, not including my horse. Did I mention I was a servant, and you’re a prince? Aren’t I a catch?’_

No. It was better if Poe didn’t know. Finn didn’t want to disappoint him. “I can’t. It’s just - I don’t want to ruin this with everything else in my life. This is the one thing I want for myself. Does that make sense?” Poe smiled, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

“I know what it’s like to want to be someone else for a while, remember?”

Finn smiled. They walked in silence for a while, until they heard someone calling for Poe.

Finn turned toward the source of the noise. “We should probably head back. They’re probably looking for you. You have to pick a spouse, remember?”

Poe nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Or…” he grabbed Finn’s hand, dragging him along as he sprinted through the garden, even further from the ballroom and his guests. Finally, he pulled Finn aside into a secluded area, by a small fountain, and he flopped onto the grass.

“There. No one will look for us here.”

Finn smiled as he sat down next to the prince, still winded from his sudden run. “What was that about?” He panted.

“I just wanted you to myself for a while longer,” Poe responded. He frowned, looking up at Finn. “Was that creepy? It sounded creepy to me.”

Finn laughed. “Maybe a little. But if I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to going back either.”

Poe beamed at him, before pulling Finn down until they were lying side by side. They took turns pointing out the constellations they knew, making up their own when their knowledge ran out.

“I’ll call that star the Potato, because it shines just as brightly as you,” Poe said, looking over at Finn with a gentle smile. Finn tried to contain himself, but he couldn’t help it: he burst out laughing, clutching his sides. Poe grimaced. “If I knew your name, that would have been much more romantic.”

Finn grinned. “It was perfect. I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled so often. I’ve laughed more in this night than in the past four years altogether,” he paused, his smile softening. “You gave that to me, Poe. Thank you.”

Poe sat up, looking suddenly serious. Finn didn’t like that. Poe should be smiling, always: it suited him.

“I’m turning 21 next week,” Poe started. The subject change startled Finn, but he listened curiously. Finn, of course, knew turning 21 meant for the young prince, but let Poe continue anyway. “Which means I’ll become king, taking over from Leia - oh, sorry, the Queen Regent. When my parents died, I was too young to take the throne, so Leia, their vizier, took over until I could fulfill my duties. She’s an incredible Queen, Finn. She’s a war hero, she’s _my_ hero. Leia is everything I want to be when I’m older. She’s so wise, so kind: I can only hope to be half the ruler she is. And it’s not that I don’t think I can do it, I know I can, it’s just - it’s scary.”

Finn scooted closer to Poe, taking hold of his hand. Poe glanced over at him, smiling softly, before he continued. “The other advisors think that I should get married. They think it’ll be good for the people to see a strong, stable royal family after Leia steps down. And I just - I want to find someone in my own time, to fall in love without any pressure.”

Finn nodded, smiling encouragingly, trying to ignore the pain he felt at the thought of Poe marrying someone else. This wasn’t about him.

Poe, seeming to sense his discomfort, turned around until he was face to face with Finn, taking both his hands in his own. “What I’m trying to say, is that - if I _have_ to be with someone - oh god, not _have_ , I mean it’s not like it’s a chore - if I choose to be with someone - I’d - that is, if you’d -”

Poe was cut off by a yell - “Poe! Get your butt back in that ballroom! You have guests to attend to!”

It was Han, the man from the field. Which - _oh_. Han as in Han Solo, the Queen Regent’s husband, and Captain of the Guard. Han Solo, the General. Han Solo, the smuggler. Han Solo, the war hero. Han Solo, who was headed right toward them.

Finn grabbed Poe’s hand, and they were off again, weaving through hedges and trying to outrun the older man. Finally, they managed to hide behind a large fountain until Han finally passed, his voice fading into the distance. “You’re a popular guy, Poe.”

Poe grimaced. “So it would seem.” He shrugged off his jacket, overheated from all the running. He went to help Finn up from where he’d been crouching, but he overestimated the leverage Finn would need and they both keeled over into the fountain. They stared at each other for a moment, taking in their soaked appearances, before they collapsed into giggles.

“At least this time the water isn’t muddy,” Poe laughed, helping a chuckling Finn out of the fountain.

Finn felt shivers begin to overtake him. The water had been chilly, and the soft spring breeze was suddenly freezing to him. Poe frowned.

“Here, take my jacket,” Poe said, grabbing it from where he’d dropped it earlier.

“No, Poe, I couldn’t -”

“I live here. It’ll take all of five minutes for me to get a new jacket. You, on the other hand, live at least twenty miles away, based on where we met. Take the jacket.”

Finn relented, shrugging out of his soaked purple jacket and into Poe’s rust-colored one. Poe grinned at the sight, straightening the lapel and adjusting the tails of the coat.

He slung Finn’s jacket over his shoulder, taking the younger man’s hand as he strode toward the palace, presumably in pursuit of another coat.

Suddenly, the clock tower tolled to signal that it was halfway to midnight. Finn gasped. It would take at least thirty minutes to get home, if he was lucky. He had to leave immediately if he wanted even a chance to get home before the Phasmas.

He turned quickly to Poe. “I have to go.”

Poe started. “What? Why?”

“Poe, I just wanted you to know that this is night with you has made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I - I didn’t want it to end.”

“Then don’t leave! There’s still a few hours left before the end of the ball.”

“I can’t explain, just - you’ll be a great king, Poe. I can’t wait to see what you’ll do. And - and whoever you decide to marry -” Finn felt his voice crack, and he cut himself off. He cleared his throat, trying to blink away the tears forming in his eyes. “I hope they make you as happy as you’ve made me tonight. I hope they’re worthy of the throne, but more importantly, of your kindness and your love.”

 _Because I’m certainly not_ , Finn thought to himself. He leaned in and gave Poe a gentle kiss on the cheek, before pulling away, looking away from Poe’s stricken face.

“What - I don’t understand - why -”

Finn gave Poe a quick bow. “Goodbye, your highness.”

And then he ran, as fast as he could, toward the palace and his coach. He heard a sudden yell, and turned around, paused for a moment.

“ _Wait!_ I don’t even know your name! How will I find you?”

Finn hesitated, taking one last lingering look at Poe before turning back around and running again, away from the prince. He wanted to stay, he did, but he didn’t want Poe to know what he really was: a fraud and a liar. It was one thing if Poe thought he was a peasant; it was another entirely for him to know that Finn was a servant.

He ran through the ballroom, ignoring the murmurs that erupted at the sight of him. He practically ran into the Queen Regent herself. He stopped short, breathlessly.

“Ma’am - your majesty - I - Poe loves you very dearly, and he’s lucky to have you. Let him be happy.” and he ran away before he could get yelled at for being insolent.

Finn raced down the front steps of the palace, to where Slip had already pulled the carriage up, bless him. He glanced at the clock tower: twenty minutes to midnight. Damn.

He leapt into the open door of the coach, yelling for Slip to start driving. They went quickly away from the front of the castle, and Finn looked out of his window to see Poe stop short at the end of the steps, still holding Finn’s jacket. Without thinking, he waved to the prince, just as he had all those years ago in his home town. Poe didn’t wave back. Instead, he started running after Finn’s carriage, until he was passed by four men on horseback, chasing after it themselves.

Finn’s eyes widened. Why were they chasing him? He had to leave, before someone saw the carriage disappear, his horses turn to mice, and his suit turn back to tattered clothes.

They raced away from the palace, Slip tipping over a pile of barrels they passed to slow down their pursuers. When they finally made it to town, it was only a minute to midnight. Slip pulled into an alley next to the town blacksmith’s, and Finn managed to tumble out of the carriage just before it returned to a pebble with a loud pop. Slip turned to Finn, gave him a tight hug with his temporary arms, and promptly transformed into a horse. Finn stared. He’d seen Slip turn into a man, but it was just as bizarre the other way around. Slip, seemingly unperturbed, just licked Finn’s cheek affectionately.

Finn jumped as he heard the thundering of hooves heading down the main street, and ducked further into the the shadows of the alleyway. The riders stopped, looking around for a trace of the carriage, when a young woman shouted to them.

“He went that way!,” she yelled, pointing in the direction of the sea. The horsemen shouted their thanks and sped away. Finn stared at her, confused. She whipped around.

“You - ” she started, jabbing a finger in Finn’s direction, “- are going to come in and explain to me why that man just turned into a horse.”

Finn followed her into the Blacksmith's silently: she was small, but intimidating. Finn was sure she could beat him up quite easily, if she wanted to.

She pulled him into the sitting area, gesturing for him to explain himself. So he did. He told her about his father’s suit, about his step-family’s cruelty, about Luke sudden appearance and the wonders he created with a flick of his wand. As he told his story her large brown eyes lit up with wonder.

“ _Luke Skywalker_? I thought he was a myth.”

“That’s what I said!” he exclaimed, laughing. The girl smiled with him. He was about to continue, when the door banged open.

“Finn! Where are you? Why is Slip outside the Blacksmith’s, of all places? Are you alright? Finn!”

It was Maz. The girl walked over to the entryway, pulling the old woman in and hushing her. “Rey! What have you done with Finn?”

“I’m right here, Maz. She was hiding me from people that were chasing me.”

Maz relaxed, relieved that he was safe. Then she tensed up again. “Chasing you?”

The girl, Rey, grabbed Maz’s hand, bubbling over with excitement. “Maz, he met Luke Skywalker! He gave him magic presents!”

Maz stared at Finn, who shrugged. “He said he was my fairy godmother.”

Rey urged him to continue the story, and, now that Maz was here, he elected to tell them everything, even about the way Poe made him feel. He didn’t know Rey, but Maz seemed to like her. Besides, he would have told the old woman all this anyway. When he finished his story, the two women just stared at him for a moment, speechless. Then Rey spoke up.

“But if your clothes were meant to go back to how they were, why is your jacket still intact?”

Finn looked at her, confused, before glancing down at himself. Oh. He was still wearing Poe’s jacket. He took it off, holding it close to his chest. “It’s Poe’s,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. He looked up at his friend. “Oh, Maz, what am I supposed to do now?” he asked, plaintively.

Maz smiled gently, pulling him into a hug. Rey patted his back awkwardly, trying to show her support to this stranger she had just met. “My child, it’s clear that you love him. Go to him. Tell him how you feel.”

Finn shook his head, pulling away. “Poe’s a prince. I’m nothing. Can you imagine the look on his face when he realizes he’d spent the night with a _servant_? Besides, even if he did return my feelings, even if he wasn’t intended for someone else, then Phasma and the boys would be able to get close to the crown, and to the people that make decisions. No, it’s better this way. Poe doesn’t get disappointed, and Phasma doesn’t get any more power than she already has.”

“But _you_ get your heart broken.”

Finn shrugged. “That might be true. But I got to spend one night with Poe, and it was perfect. I’ll always have that.”

“And his jacket!” Rey piped up. “You’ll have his jacket to remember him by!”

Finn smiled, looking down at the coat in his hands. “Yeah.”

Maz looked at the clock. “You’d better hurry, Finn. The ball will have ended by now. You’ll have to get back before the Phasmas.”

Finn swore as he raced out the door. He hopped onto Slip, waved his goodbyes, and sped down toward the estate as fast as the old horse could take him.

He pulled into the courtyard in record time, led Slip to the barn, and raced up to the attic to hide Poe’s coat. He put it in the trunk his parents’ portrait leaned against, where he’d found his father’s suit. He changed back into his raggedy day clothes just in time, as he heard Phasma and the boys come in just as he pulled on his shirt. They called up to him, and as he came down the stairs they demanded refreshments after their long evening.

He went down to the kitchen and made up a fresh pot of tea, as well as a plate of cheese and crackers, and brought them up to his cousins.

“Oh, _do_ cheer up, boy. I’ll not stand for you moping about the house over something as unimportant as a _ball_.”

Finn quirked a brow from where he was standing behind Phasma. “It seemed pretty important to you before.”

Nines threw himself down on the chair next to his mother, pouting. “The Prince spent the whole night with some floozy. He danced with him once, then they left for nearly _three hours_ , and then, after that harlot left, the Prince came back and sleepwalked his way through the rest of the ball.”

Hux settled down more gracefully than his brother, but nodded along. “He danced with me once, but I don’t think he listened to a word I said. He just kept staring at the door longingly, like a sad puppy.”

“Honestly, who would be stupid enough to run away from a prince?”

  


*********************

  


Life after Poe was difficult.

It was spring, and spring meant that Finn would have to go back to farming the land, along with doing all the housework and looking after the animals. He would wake up early in the morning and fall into bed well into the night. Phasma and the boys seemed to be crueler than ever, spouting venom at him whenever he passed by. If anything, he felt less like a servant and more and more like a slave.

His only comfort was Poe’s jacket: hidden in his trunk during the day, Finn would pull it out each night, and hold it to his chest as he fell asleep. It hardly smelled like Poe anymore, but the jacket made him feel safe, and reminded him of what it meant to be happy.

He had a roof over his head, and food in his belly, and the memory of Poe to keep him warm at night. So he didn’t complain about what he wanted, and he was grateful for what he had.

  


******************

  


Months passed, and Finn had fallen ill. He was constantly sore, dizzy with exhaustion, and couldn’t stop coughing for the life of him. One morning, after weeks of his coughing, Phasma yelled at him for keeping her up the night before. He tried to explain that he was ill, and probably just needed rest, but she ignored his pleas. She sent him into town on errands, so that she could get some peace from his “incessant hacking.”

He hopped onto Slip in a daze, and slowly made his way into town. Normally, he’d be overjoyed with this assignment: his weekly trips to town were the highlights of his week. He got to visit Maz and his new friend, the young blacksmith, Rey.

They had fallen into a fast friendship after the night of the ball, and bonded over the hardships they both had faced growing up. They were terrible things to go through, made less sad by having someone to share that pain with. Finn would come into her shop and talk with her as she hammered… things… into… other things. Finn didn’t much care for smithing: it was too violent. But he loved the company.

Rey knew so much about so many things: it was fascinating. She seemed to understand every language she came across, shipping out work to people from several countries. She spent over an hour one day explaining the evolution of the horseshoe to him, which was dreadfully boring: but she was so excited about it, that Finn couldn’t help but humor her. Once, someone had tried to rob her store: Finn had never seen anyone hit the ground faster. His impression that she could beat him to a pulp had turned out to be spot on.

He adored her.

On this particular day, he walked into the Rey’s shop and practically collapsed onto her, dead on his feet. She took one look at him and pulled him into her living space on the floor above. As she lay him down on her couch, Rey rested her hand against his forehead. She winced in sympathy.

“You’re burning up, Finn. Honestly, you need to go to a doctor.”

“Can’t,” Finn rasped out. “Phasma -”

“I don’t give a damn what Phasma says. You can’t go on like this, Finn.”

Finn went to respond, but started coughing again, this time more harshly. His vision started to get blurry, and he could hear shouting from a distance - maybe if he just closed his eyes for a moment -

  


***************

  
  


Finn’s eyes shot open with a startled yelp. There was a strange tingling sensation in his chest, almost painful in it’s strength. He looked up to see Rey staring at her hands in shock. They were glowing a faint blue.

“Rey, what -”

“You passed out, and your fever was so high, and I was so worried - all I did was touch you, I swear! And then everything was glowing and - ?”

She trailed off, lost or words. Finn paused. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. I feel ten times better than I did before.”

“... Finn, did I just… do magic?”

“Honestly, Rey, I’m not that surprised. I’m pretty sure you could fly if you put your mind to it.”

There was a faint pop, and Luke Skywalker appeared next to Rey. She and Finn both screamed.

“There was an incredible surge in magic nearby: did you two see anything?” Luke said, not even bothering with pleasantries.

Rey glared at the man, ignoring his question. “Some fairy godmother _you_ are. Finn was dangerously ill! It was sheer luck that he came to me and this magic crap happened, or else who knows what would have happened!”

Luke grimaced, chagrined, before he paused. “It was you?”

“Apparently.”

Luke grabbed Rey by the shoulders, staring intently into her eyes. “Where are you from, my child?”

Rey looked over at Finn, confused. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I grew up in Jakku, but my family left me there when I was very small. I don’t remember them, really.”

Luke gasped, his eyes filling with tears. “Rey?”

She shrunk away from the older man. “How do you know my name?”

He pulled her close to him, hugging her tightly. “My precious girl. My little Rey. I’ve found you.”

Rey pulled back with wide eyes. “What?”

  


*********************

  


When Finn had realized what was happening, he excused himself from the room. He waited patiently in the shop until Rey and Luke emerged nearly an hour later, both their eyes red.

Luke told Finn his story:

When Rey had been very young, Luke had had a pupil who went bad as a wizard could go. The pupil, who Luke called Kylo Ren, killed every sorcerer or sorceress he found, training or not. Luke, knowing that Rey had the same gift for magic as her father, hid her in the far away land of Jakku until he could be sure that the threat was gone. It took years, but Ren was defeated, along with his master, Snoke. But when Luke returned to Jakku, his daughter had disappeared. He had spent the last decade following the traces of magic he could find: there were so few magic folk left; surely he would find her eventually.

And find her he had. All because Finn had nearly died from pneumonia. Finn was almost grateful to Phasma for refusing to let him rest: if he had, Rey would never have found her family.

They went to Maz’s to celebrate. Or, rather, they went to Maz’s and Finn went to spend time with the old woman while the Skywalkers continued their family reunion. Nearly an hour had passed when there was a sudden trumpet, announcing a herald’s arrival. Finn stood up, walking outside hesitantly. There hadn’t been a herald in nearly two months, not since Poe’s coronation. From Maz’s doorway, he could hear the news just fine.

“Hear ye, hear ye! King Dameron of Yavin, has found a groom,” Finn felt his heart fall into his stomach. He knew this would have happened eventually, but he was still unprepared. Rey walked over and clasped his hand. He smiled at her gratefully, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. It was just like Rey to think of him, even while her entire life was being turned on its head.

“The King asks for the hand of the mystery man with whom he shared the first dance on the night of the ball all those weeks ago,” there was an outbreak of whispering from the crowd that had formed below the herald. Rey gasped, looking at Finn in shock. The herald continued. “He expresses his deepest love for this man, and gives a word of caution: should he not receive an answer, he will search far and wide, until he finds the man who claimed his heart.”

At that, the herald stepped down from his pedestal and rode off in the direction of the nearest town, presumably to give the same message.

Rey whirled on him, dragging him into the back room of Maz’s tavern. Maz and Luke followed closely behind. She grabbed his arms excitedly. “He loves you! Finn, Poe loves you! You have to go to him.”

And God, Finn wanted to. He felt as if his heart was going to burst it was so full, like he could bust into song at any moment. He’d never been happier, but at the same time -

“This doesn’t change anything.”

Rey, Maz and Luke shouted in dismay.

“What do you mean it doesn’t change anything? What about true love?” Luke yelled.

Finn sighed. “He still doesn’t know that I’m a servant. Phasma is still an issue. I can’t go to him.”

Rey pouted. “Well then, he’ll just have to come for you.”

“Rey, he’s not going to be looking for some indentured servant. He’ll probably go to the manor, see Hux and Nines, and run away screaming.”

“True love, Finn,” Luke hissed. “ _True love_.”

  


*************************

  


True to his word, Poe did send out a search party a week after the herald’s announcement.

Actually, he sent out _several_ search parties, led by himself, Han, and a few other members of the guard. Finn hadn’t been in town on the day the search party, led by a foreign man named Chewbacca, arrived in his region. After spending too long in town on the day of Rey and Luke’s reunion, he’d been forbidden to go back for another three weeks. No search parties had ever come to Troope - _Phasma_ Manor, presumably because no one in town believed Hux or Nines capable of winning over the King. They weren’t wrong.

Finn’s punishment finally ended, and he was allowed back in town. He rode Slip for the first time in what felt like forever, laughing as he sped down the countryside toward Rey’s shop. Oh, how he’d missed her!

He jumped off Slip and raced to her door, throwing it open with a happy shout.

“It is I, the prodigal son! I have returned once more from the clutches of the dreaded witch!”

He looked around. Rey wasn’t there. She must have been upstairs. That was strange: it was the middle of the day, and the shop was usually open at this time.

Finn walked up the stairs, opening the door to her living area. After about the third week of knowing her, Rey had told him to just let himself in, as he and Maz (and now Luke) were the only visitors she ever had.

“Rey?” he called, “Are you here? It’s me, Finn. Phasma finally let me out, and I finished the work for today. Rey?”

He walked into the foyer, only to see Rey, frozen in shock. Finn looked at her company and found himself in much the same state. Sitting at her table was none other than the Queen Regent herself, her husband on her left.

Ah. Of course. It hadn’t occurred to him, but if Luke was Rey’s father, she would be Rey’s aunt. Naturally she would come to see her niece.

They all stood there for a time, staring at each other.

Finally, the (former) Queen Regent spoke. “It’s - it’s _you_. You’re one Poe’s been looking for.”

Finn stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. He came to three horrible realizations:

  1. He had essentially told them his name,
  2. He’d mentioned Phasma as well, which meant that it would all too easy to track him down, and
  3. He’d all but admitted to being a servant.



 

So, naturally, he did the only logical thing he could: he bolted.

He heard Rey shout his name, but paid her no mind as he leapt onto Slip and back up the road toward the manor. He had no idea what to do, but he knew he needed to hide first, so he could think of a plan.

He raced into the house, starting up the stairs, when - “Finn.”

He froze. Phasma hadn’t used his name since the day she arrived, calling him ‘boy’, or ‘you’. He walked into the foyer carefully, only to see her sitting at in a chair, Poe’s jacket on the table in front of her. He felt his chest constrict at the sight. She _knew_.

“You’ve done a marvelous job of hiding it. I’m almost impressed. I didn’t know you were even capable of lying. You seemed almost too stupid, too naive to pull it off.”

Finn floundered, trying to think of something, anything to say. “I -”

“I don’t care how you got the clothes, to be honest, or even how you got there. This is what will happen: you will find the King, and accept his proposal, marry off Hux and Nines to members of high society, and I will take over the kingdom, ruling from the shadows. That idiot boy is far too soft-hearted to be an effective ruler.”

“No.”

It was funny, Finn thought, how easy it was to say it, after all these years.

“Excuse me?”

“No. I’ve let you walk all over me and make my life a living hell, but I will not let you do that to Poe. He deserves better. The kingdom deserves better. You, who have been nothing but cruel and vindictive since the moment you walked into my life, deserve _nothing_ from me. All this time, I’ve kept quiet, because I always thought there were people that had it worse than me, that I should be grateful for what I had. But now I know that you are _nothing_ but a small, hateful woman. I’ve always been better than you.”

Phasma sighed. “Pity, that you would grow a spine just when you became useful. Well, fair’s fair. if you won’t let us be happy, then I won’t let you.” She waved her hand, and suddenly Finn found himself grabbed by both arms by Hux and Nines, and dragged to the basement. They threw him down the steps, slamming the door and locking the key.

Finn ran up the stairs, pounding on the door, but it was no use. The house was old, the doors thick and sturdy. He was trapped. He sighed, slumping against the door. At least, he thought, he had saved Poe from Phasma. Even if she kept him in here forever, he’d have that to hold on to. He could live with that.

Hours passed, until night had surely fallen, based on the dim light in the basement. Finn had taken to sitting against the door, drawing pictures in the dust by his side. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

He bolted upright, peeking through the keyhole. He had an excellent vantage point from which to see the front door. It took nearly five minutes for Nines to answer the door.  He had clearly forgotten that Finn was… indisposed.

The door opened, and Finn and Nines gasped simultaneously. The former regent was there, along with Han, Luke, Maz, and Rey. In front of them all stood Poe, looking determined.

“Is - is Finn here?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name. You must have the wrong address,” Phasma called as she descended the stairs.

“You liar! This is his house! He’s lived here his whole life!” Rey answered, seething with rage.

Finn realized with a start that Rey had never met Phasma. She must have been harboring a lot of resentment toward the woman who was ruining her best friend’s life.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Phasma responded drolly. “Honestly, royalty is one thing, but I will not abide by a grease-smeared girl and a homeless man arriving at my doorstep uninvited,” she turned to Maz.  “And didn’t I fire you?”

Poe bristled at Phasma’s brusqueness, but Han put a placating hand on his arm. “Madam, may we come in? We have a few questions for you.”

She waved them in imperiously, sneering at Rey as she passed.

Poe turned to her impatiently. “Ma’am, I know it’s late in the evening, and this is highly unorthodox but I - that’s my jacket.”

Finn’s breath caught. Phasma must have forgotten to put it away after Finn’s outburst.

Hux came in, thinking on his feet. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, your majesty. I saw your lovely coat at the ball, and thought to have one commissioned in its likeness. I was quite taken with the color. It matches my hair, after all.”

Poe nodded, crestfallen. Leia turned to Hux. “Do you mind if I look anyway?”

He agreed, and Leia picked up the jacket. She turned it over, inspecting every stitch, it would seem. Suddenly she turned to Poe with a smirk. “It _is_ yours, Poe.”

Hux sputtered. “No, my lady -”

She rounded on Finn’s cousin, her glaring. “On the night of the ball, Poe was an anxious mess. He had opened the invitation to every eligible man and woman in the kingdom, in the hopes that a some random man he met in the woods the month before might come. He was so desperate to see him, so nervous that this mystery man might not come, that he ended up pulling a button clean off his cuff with his fidgeting. I think you’ll find that this jacket is missing a button on the left sleeve.”

“So he is here!” Poe practically yelled.

Suddenly, Finn’s view was interrupted by a large, piercing blue eyes staring back at him. He yelped, scrambling backwards.

“He’s in here.” Luke called.

Of course it was Luke. He was so odd.

The door was opened, and Finn stood up, suddenly nervous. There was no magic to help him now, no fancy suit or bandits to distract Poe. There was only Finn. He hoped that was enough.

Poe saw him, and his face lit up. It was like he didn’t notice the grime all over Finn, or his tattered clothes. He rushed toward Finn, and took his hands in his own. Finn looked around, and pulled Poe by the hand up the stairs, until they reached the attic. Now there was no audience.

Poe looked around. “Where are we?”

Finn looked at the ground, ashamed. “This is where I live. I thought you might like some privacy, so I brought you here.”

Poe smiled, before taking Finn’s hand. “You know, I didn’t understand why you ran away that night. You can imagine how much more confusing it got for me when the jacket you left suddenly changed color and fell apart in my hands. One of the sleeves just plain disappeared. I was so confused, and upset, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Had I done something wrong? Had I scared you away?” Finn shook his hand, going to explain himself, when Poe held up a hand to stop him. “I understand now, why you did run. I mean, if my suit was going to fall apart at midnight, I wouldn’t want to deal with those kind of questions. Anyway, back to my romantic story.”

Finn rolled his eyes. Poe grinned, and continued. “Then there was the coronation, and everything was so hectic, and before I knew it, months had passed, and my advisors were still pestering me about finding a suitable husband or wife. And I got to thinking: there’s only one person I’d ever want to marry, and I don’t even know his name. I mean, I had Potato Boy, but I don’t think that would have been much help in the search. And I know I should have let it go when you didn’t respond to the herald, but - I had to know. I had to know if you felt the way I did. So, I went after you. And here you are. And it turns out that you’re just as wonderful and beautiful as I remembered.

Finn felt his eyes filling with tears. “Poe, you have to know, it was never a question of if I loved you. Of course I do. Who wouldn’t? It was just - there was Phasma, and I’m just a servant, and -”

“Oh, Finn,” Poe sighed. He pulled the younger man into a tight embrace, uncaring about the dust that would surely end up on his fine clothes. “I don’t care about any of that. You’re you, and that’s more than enough for me. I like you just the way you are,” he paused. “Though I will admit, that woman is terrifying. I completely understand your reasoning there.”

Finn laughed. “So. You love me, and I love you, and I believe there was some kind of marriage proposal via a herald…”

Poe jumped up. “Oh my god, yes! You have to marry me! I mean. If you want to, that is. Which, I assume you do, because of the whole ‘I love you’ thing. Oh god, why am I so bad at this?”

Finn stood, chuckling at Poe’s franticness. “It’s hard to believe that you’re simultaneously the most powerful man in the country and a complete loser at the same time,” he teased.

Poe let out a surprised laugh at that, relaxing. He took Finn’s hands in his own. He leaned his forehead against Finn’s. “Let’s get married,” he whispered, almost reverently.

Finn grinned. He leaned in and touched Poe’s mouth with his own. It was nothing like a fairytale: Finn had never kissed anyone before, and he’d gone in at the wrong angle. Poe tilted his head and kissed Finn back sweetly, but they kept laughing giddily into the kiss, overjoyed. Poe grabbed Finn round his middle and swung him round, laughing, making it impossible to keep kissing, but Finn rectified that as soon as his feet hit the ground again. Poe was squeezing him so tightly it almost hurt, but Finn was doing the same to Poe. All in all, it was a disorganized, ridiculous first kiss.

It was perfect.

Poe pulled back, grinning, before grabbing Finn’s hand. “Come on, we’re going home.”

Finn went to follow, but stopped to run back and grab his parents’ portrait. Poe took the painting in for a moment. “You have your mother’s eyes,” Poe said, looking up at Finn fondly. “They’re beautiful.”

Finn had to kiss him again at that.

It went much more smoothly than the first kiss.

  


*******************

  


Finn and Poe walked down the stairs hand in hand, much to the delight of their friends, who whooped and cheered. The Phasmas were nowhere in sight.

“Where -”

Rey interrupted Finn’s question. “Maz pointed out to Phasma that now that you’re eighteen, the house belongs to you. They cleared out pretty quickly after that. I guess they didn’t want to stick around to feel your well deserved wrath.”

Finn grinned. “Well, in that case, I’ll be selling the house.”

Maz startled. “But Finn, it’s your parents’ house. You love this place.”

“I _loved_ it. Now, there’s nothing but pain for me here. It’s better off in the hands of a new owner, one who’ll give it the love and care it deserves. Besides,” he said, gesturing to the portrait he’d carefully rolled up, “I have my parents right here.”

They all went to leave, chattering happily about wedding plans already, when Finn paused. He ran over to the table and grabbed Poe’s jacket.

“Here’s your jacket back. Sorry I stole it, even if it was an accident,” he left out the fact that he’d slept with it like a security blanket for the past three months. There were only so many revelations he could have in one night.

Poe smiled softly, before wrapping the jacket around Finn’s shoulders.

“Keep it. It suits you.”

 

 

fin. 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ....and then they lived happily ever after and probably had the secks at some point
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.senatorgana.tumblr.com)!
> 
> edit feb. 2017: typos were pointed out, i was losing my mind, here we are.


End file.
